


Three Times Peter was clingy with his Dad...

by HogwartsToAlexandria



Series: Marie's Ironstrange Bingo Fills 2019 [1]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: "Peter Parker", Alpha Stephen, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe -Supremefamily, Cuddling, Domestic Bliss, Fluff, IronStrange Bingo 2019, Kissing, M/M, Omega Tony, mentions of bullying, playfighting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2020-01-11 09:10:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18427484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HogwartsToAlexandria/pseuds/HogwartsToAlexandria
Summary: ...(and one time he thought he was too old for it)The relationship tying Peter to his Daddy, from the youngest age to his teenage years, seen through Tony's eyes. And to think Tony was worried.Ironstrange Bingo 2019 Fill for G2: "Peter Parker"





	Three Times Peter was clingy with his Dad...

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! My first fill for the Ironstrange bingo! I'm having a blast writing for these boys and the event is the perfect opportunity to do that, so thank you lovely mods! 
> 
> Thanks to the amazing SerenaLunera for the beta and daily cheerleading, you rock <3

_ I - The One where Peter is a baby _

 

“I'll call you back Pep, okay?” 

“Why are you whispering now?” the woman answered but Tony wasn't listening anymore. 

He’d just come home from the multiple meetings his day held, he was bone-tired and dreamt of nothing but slouching on the couch and close his eyes and yet, he didn't. He stood in the entryway of the living-room, arms loosely crossed over his chest, smiling like a loon.

He walked two or three steps into the room and sat on the coffee table, careful not to make anything fall and clatter on the floor. Would be a pity to disturb the quiet spectacle he was now witnessing. 

His husband was sprawled out on the couch, face buried in the circle of his arms and feet resting on the side cushioning of the couch, snoring softly. That was sweet enough in itself with how little the man allowed himself to rest. Except it didn't stop there. 

Tony was sure the baby hadn't been there before Stephen fell asleep but somehow, along the way, Peter crawled his way up and was now laying atop Stephen's back in a fashion similar as that of his dad. His small head was wedged in the crook of one of his elbows, his face so squished and heavy with sleep that all Tony could see behind the curtain of curls was his smallish, pouting pink lips. 

His heart might very well be melting. 

This scene might give other parents a heart attack but Tony stayed right where he was, watching them silently knowing that even if Stephen woke up in a start, Peter's recently developed spider-sense would take over and stick father and son together, keeping him safe of any harm.

Tony didn't know how long it lasted, didn't care much for that matter. His tiredness had seemingly evaporated, letting awe take over. 

When he’d met Stephen almost a year ago, Tony would never have thought they would be there now - would never have let himself hope for it either, it would have seemed foolish and unattainable. It was asking too much is what Tony had told himself for weeks on end after Stephen had taken things - namely, Tony's fatherless pregnancy - in stride, telling him all the sweetest things Tony had ever needed to hear, assuring him that he was worth it and that he, Stephen, was ready for it, for Peter. 

And so the alpha had entered both of their lives and never left them since. He’d taken care of Tony for the last five months of his pregnancy, dotting on the man, coming to every appointment, soothing all the aches Tony had come across as he got bigger and bigger. 

Taking in an omega pregnant with someone else's child was a rarity that proved just how good a person Stephen was and Tony could never let that be downplayed, no matter how embarrassed and flustered acknowledging it made the man.

Even with the assurance that he would recognize Peter the second he came and said hi to the world, Stephen hadn't tried to push Tony to have things go faster between them than they would have without a baby in the picture. He'd taken him on numerous dates, had made a show of holding doors and gifting him roses. He'd proved himself over and over and over until even Tony, full of self-doubt and difficulties to trust anyone, could never question the love that shone in the other man's eyes. Until Tony had bared his neck one night and asked for the mating bite he'd grown to long for, asked for the bond he'd grown to need more than food and water. 

He bathed in the combined scents of his mate and son now, his tight, warm family. His stomach felt like goo, his brain like a sugary cloud. 

The funniest part now that Tony could look back on the worries that had kept him up at night the closest he got to his due date, was how terrified he'd been that Stephen would eventually regret taking Peter in his life, resent having a child born of another Alpha in his life. The fear that Stephen wouldn't be able to  _ love _ Peter had petrified Tony till he fell asleep standing up. 

The thought made him chuckle now. Stephen was nothing but a big pile of gaga sorcerer around the boy, had been from day one. His eyes lit up anytime he so much as looked at him and it was a hard fit to see Peter anywhere other than in Stephen's arms or sitting on his lap if the baby wasn't sleeping - or even when he was or so it seemed. 

Stephen stirred as Tony kept laughing softly. The baby’s weight on his back apparently registered with his mind quite quickly because the alpha just turned his head to the side, blinking a bleary eye open. Even like this, with only half his face showing and the blatant show of his softie side, the man managed to raise an eyebrow at Tony. 

“Hi there, wanna share the joke?” his voice was gravelly and meant to be serious but the visible corner of his mouth was tilted up, not down so Tony just kept on chuckling for a while.

“I love you.” 

  
  


_ II - The One where Peter is a toddler _

 

It’s Thursday night, the beginning of Stephen and Tony’s weekend. It’s movie night. 

Very soon in their relationship both men discovered they had a shared passion for very light, very schematic romcom movies and have indulged in it ever since. Every Thursday night a cringier fluffier entry to their collection of light-hearted love stories, the lamest the actors, the thinnest the plot, the better. So here they are and Tony was fully into today’s choice until just a few minutes ago. Now he’s watching his own favorite show, his own private fluff moment and going all sappy in his corner of the large couch. 

“How can you see anything right now?” he gives in, snickering to himself. 

Stephen is sitting with his legs laid out in front of him partly on the meridian, partly on the coffee table, his head resting against the cushions in a flurry of salt and pepper hair looking gorgeous as usual. Except you can't really see his face. You can't see his face at all indeed, because a teeny, minuscule boy is busy sitting at the very top of Stephen's chest, his knees wedged beneath the man's arms. He's babbling as much to himself as for the benefit of his parents as he plays with his Daddy's hair, most certainly thinking he's doing a very good job of giving him a new hairdo. Very fashion, very messy,  _ hipster _ even.

Stephen laughs, "Oh I see something alright," and there is a smile so wide and so clear in the sound of his voice Tony is once again swept off his feet by the strength of his love for both this man and their son, by the mountain-sized bond that unites toddler and sorcerer. 

"Pretty Daddy," Peter giggles and Tony pauses the movie because this is a much better film to see indeed. 

Peter turns his gaze from his work to Tony's grinning face for a minute, his eyes filled with glee and an adorable frown of concentration on his face, "Pretty Daddy, Mama?" and he waves the mid-length strands of Stephen's hair in his fists for demonstration, the man wincing a little at the pull but still, he doesn't say anything.

Tony nods, "Yes baby, Daddy is very pretty, you're doing a very good job," he winks at what he can see of Stephen's gaze while Peter lets out a shriek of pleasure and proceeds to go back to his work.

Movie nights were rapidly shifting to become family time on the couch and Tony invariably ended up pausing or plain stopping the movie. The other two just fit too much with the dreams Tony had always nursed, for him to miss an opportunity to watch them interacting. 

The hairdresser bit was one of many variations. Others included Peter falling asleep in all imaginable positions. Call it spidey flexibility or baby obliviousness, Tony still couldn't comprehend how their son could get any rest from sleeping with his head dangling in the void. The only unchanging parameter of Peter's hazardous naps was the closeness to his Daddy. As close and snuggled up to him as possible was Peter's only requirement. 

Just like a few weeks later. Tony comes home from a SI board meeting, his head ready to explode but only hanging on because he knows he gets to spend tonight with the loves of his life and there's no better lifeline. 

They get Chinese takeout and eat it on the coffee table, sitting with their legs touching, always, while Peter plays around with his mashed carrots and chicken fingers, putting more of it on Stephen's robes that in his mouth. The man doesn't mind, he’s too busy laughing and indulging in a passionate laser-chopstick fight because that's tradition, too. A bunch of dorks, huh. 

Later the same night Tony is back into his corner of the couch, his legs laid out in front of him as he leans his side to the back cushions and tickles Stephen’s side with his toes. 

The man squirms and tries to quiet the giggle that escapes him. He's not very successful but Tony stops when Stephen raises a disoriented hand in the air.

With how Peter is sprawled out on top of him his movements are pretty limited and he has to lift the baby foot resting on his shoulder to actually see Tony when he turns his head. 

“You're impossible,” he laughs under his breath. 

Stephen's eyes sparkle in the low light and Tony is once again reminded of this very odd, very satisfying fact that he too, is happy. 

When they first met Stephen had been so distant, aloof and painfully skilled at sarcasm, Tony immediately fell in love. He didn't show it, he knew better. He met each caustic line with a dry, tongue-in-cheek one of his own. He winked back and smirked any time he'd get a reaction out of the other man. Days spent without him became fewer and fewer and before Tony knew it, he simply didn't know what to do with himself without the reassuring presence of the Alpha around him.

He’d tried not to let himself wallow in self-pity when he’d realized he was pregnant, obviously thinking it would be the end of whatever he and Stephen had. But Stephen had almost laughed, except not, because he cared too much, always did, to let Tony think he didn't take him seriously. 

The truth was, Stephen had known about the pregnancy even before Tony decided to take a test. “Your scent isn't the same anymore,” he'd explained. And of course it wasn't. “I like it,” he'd said and then kissed Tony for the first time. And that was so far from anything Tony had expected it took him a while to kiss back, stunned as he was. 

The rest is history. 

The rest led them to Peter's head half-hidden in the folds of Stephen's cloak, his chubby toddler hands clasped tightly around the curve of his Daddy's side and his feet shifting in sleep from Stephen’s shoulders to the occasional nose-bump. 

Peter, too, is happy. Cared for, safe. And Tony almost whines as he is once again swept off his feet by the glorious domesticity of the pair. 

“You with me?” Stephen whispers and Tony's eyes refocus on his husband's face, tracing the faint lines that crease it so beautifully.

“Always,” Tony smiles.  
  


 

_ III - The One where Peter is ten _

 

Peter is thankfully hardly ever sick - or rather Tony is thankful the kid isn't. The only drawback being that when he does grow sick, he falls hard and fast and it generally lasts for a few hellish days of, alternately, fever, coughing fits and whining, a lot of whining that invariably wrecks the omega inside Tony and pushes Stephen's alpha right on the edge of howling. A nervous mess, all of them. 

The more he grows in age the less Tony can trust his gut feelings about Peter's rapidly coming presenting. 

He's clingy and needy at times like all omegas would at his age. He's fiercely afraid of any show of vulnerability at others, be them conscious or not, just like Stephen’s memory of himself before he presented.

His scent is undefined, neither too sweet nor too spicy, Peter’s place in the pack of humanity is a mystery even his parents can't solve but it doesn't really matter, Tony's sure neither verdicts will change what he's seeing right now, it might just strengthen it if that's even possible. 

Peter's been sick and in bed with a bad case of flu for the last five days, involuntarily forcing Tony into a frenzy of nesting, Stephen into bouts of overprotective scenting. There isn't much worse for bonded mates than to have to see their pup in such a state with no way of making it go away. The only chance of soothing their worries passes by letting go and bowing to their most primal, familial instincts and so they did. 

But it's over now, Tony knows, Peter's scent isn't sickly anymore, his playful cocoa-like smell is back to coating his tongue and his heart flutters, reassured. 

But the other two inhabitants of the penthouse don't seem to pay that fact any mind as Tony soon realizes when he wakes up from a much needed nap and follows the low humming of his husband, leading him all the way to the kitchen. 

Stephen is cooking, or he's trying to cook. It's a hard fit when a ten-year-old boy is attached to your front, legs and arms clasped around you and cheek rubbing against your shoulder with his eyes shut tight. 

Peter's expression looks blissful, Stephen's is calm, peaceful, right at ease. Tony clears his throat, smirking.

Stephen’s head doesn't so much as whip around as magnetically comes to face his mate, his eyes twinkling green bubbles in the grey-blue clouds he projects - happy. 

“You two look comfy enough,” Tony smiles and Stephen lets out a chuckle. 

“You want in?” he says, extending an arm while the other curls around Peter's back, all thoughts of cooking evaporating. 

Stephen's fingers wiggle at Tony so he’ll get closer and he does, holding his husband's gaze as the man's other hand ruffles Peter's curls. 

Tony puts a light kiss on the tip of their son's nose, relishing in the soft and cool feel of his skin that reminds his still shaky mind that Peter is all better now, all cured. He entwines his fingers with those of Stephen's free hand. 

There's no real definition for how he feels right now, no words both precise and blurry enough to match with the deep butterfly-like contentment that seeps through every last one of Tony's pores, that makes his hand tighten its careful grip around Stephen's fragile one, that makes his omega purr a rumble that softens every line on the alpha's face. 

Except there is one for what Tony feels right along with said deep-bone satisfaction - exasperation, a faint, fond one but still. Peter burrows his head farther up his Daddy's neck and Tony thinks that he might very well be like him, that their son might very well turn out presenting as omega with his insane love of cuddling and his need to be held in the safe strength of Stephen's arms any time he feels a little low. 

But then again, it could only be habit, their own little family culture, their circle of three that's built on more warmth and human contact than Tony ever thought he would be allowed to access and enjoy just twelve years ago. It sounds like a lot and at the same time, it passed too fast for Tony to keep the almost anxious feeling of time passing through their fingers like water down the drain, Peter's rapidly growing frame more proof of that sand spilling down the hourglass of their lives together. It’s still a good feeling, despite its bittersweet aftertaste, because it means Tony's made something so precious of his life he never wants to let go and that's another thing that never ceases to amaze him. Even when said precious beings, gems of his heart, are being ridiculous in their need to be close to one another. So close it hurts Stephen's back, so close Tony knows why the skin of Peter's feet is still as delicate and unmarred as that of a newborn. 

“You're the worst at saying no you know that?” Tony whispers against Peter's curls, his eyes still lost in the deep pit of his mate's eyes.

“Who said I wanted to say no?” Stephen raises an eyebrow, his trademark antics never failing to make Tony feel a little weaker in the knees but he only laughs for now. 

“True, you're just Petey-baby’s slave, for better or worse,” Tony winks and dodges Stephen's playful smack.

Peter's been quiet through the entire exchange but the jostling seems to have disgruntled him and he whines a little, “‘m not a baby, I'm ten,”

And both his parents laugh. 

“Thank you for proving my point, buddy.”  
  
  


_ IV - The One where Peter is a teenager _

 

Mondays are days off for both Stephen and Tony and they usually like to make the most of those with how little time they normally get just the two of them. 

Peter even used to be jealous of said time when he had to go to school on Mondays knowing both his parents would be home. He'd play the puppy eyes card to get out of school, too, but even with how close Peter is to his Dad, even with how rare it is for the man to tell him no about anything, skipping school when he isn't sick is a no-go, nuh-uh kind of deal in this house. Always has been, always will be. 

So they had their time together, Just Tony and Stephen, relaxing, having breakfast in bed, feeding each other lunch, lounging on the couch.  _ Playfighting till neither of them breathed quite normally. _

Which is what they're doing now. A mess of limbs alternating between slow-motion cat-like crawls and deep-dive fake-punches and not so fake wrestling. Stephen issues low rumbles in lieu of warnings and Tony answers in kind, purring playfully, winking at every scratch that lands and it's innocent as can be, nothing implicit going on, it's not meant to lead anywhere, they're just plain having fun together and it feels good, so good. 

When Tony finally surrenders, the whole of his husband's body pressing him into the couch, he leans in to kiss the man and Stephen indulges the both of them in a messy make-out session that leaves them both breathless and grinning, eyes sparkling in joy and just a little more of gold and red than is usually found in either men's eyes. 

“Love you so much,” Stephen whispers in Tony's ear later, and Tony breathes it in, straddling Stephen's legs is his default position when they're alone and he almost dozes off with his head on his mate's shoulder, drowning in easy, tender praise.

Stephen was always good at making Tony feel like the most precious thing in the world, something not many people in his life had ever even tried to accomplish, let alone succeed in bringing him there, in making him see himself the way Stephen does.

But it comes easily to the Alpha and Tony doesn't know if he could go a day without now. He never has to. 

He nuzzles his head in the crook of Stephen's neck, kisses him there, soft feather passes of his lips that make the skin prickle in goose-bumps and Stephen's arms tighten their hold around him. Perfect.

The elevator doors swish open and close without another sound, Peter is home and he doesn't come to greet them. Tony straightens up, looks his husband in the eye and finds what he knew would be there, immediate concern. 

Stephen's body immediately tenses and Tony slides off his lap to sit back next to him instead just as Stephen calls, “Peter? Come here,”

His alpha voice has a different sound to it when he talks to Peter and not to Tony and the omega marvels at it. Even before Peter presented as an omega just a few months ago, the voice already worked its wonders on the child. Tony knows Stephen loathes having to use it but he also knows that omegas sometimes need it, need it more than their own brains inform them they do. It's a physical thing, a pull that soothes and calms and he sees it even as Peter's shoulders are hunched and his head bowed when he comes into the room - hiding his emotions from his parents, from the sharp, sometimes too-perceptive eyes of his father.

“No hello from you?” Stephen is trying to sound disapproving, Tony can tell, but he's also still holding onto one of Tony's hands and his fingers tremble against Tony's palm, his temple almost twitching. 

Peter doesn't look up when he shrugs, just lets outs a noncommittal noise. 

“What's up, son?” Stephens pushes.

“Nothing,” Peter finally answers and Tony would smile at the snappy underlay of the word but he doesn't feel like it in the slightest, not when the snappiness is directed towards Stephen. It's so unlike Peter to do anything close to raising his voice at his Dad that Tony’s concern reaches a new peak. Stephen only raises an eyebrow, struck dumb for a second.

“Pete, c’mere baby,” Tony takes over, really studying his son now. 

His shoulders are almost vibrating with what can only be interpreted as nerves or pent-up energy, his arms are crossed and it's like he's squeezing his arms where his hands are clasped, his grip tightening in a rhythmic flex as he does come closer. He doesn't sit, he doesn't try to come to them like he normally would. 

“Something happened?” Stephen's voice is calm, poised but when Peter finally looks up at him, the alpha just cannot hold onto his reflexive growl - Peter's brown eyes are filled with tears, his cheeks and neck splattered in red splotches and now that he's really come nearer, the distress bittering his scent wafts over them in waves. “What  _ happened _ ?” 

Peter doesn't flinch back exactly but the strength of his Dad's voice makes him whine low in his throat. He curls in on himself a bit, his bottom lip wobbles and he's still looking into his father's gaze, a desperate edge to how he holds onto it when he cries, “Daddy,”

It sounds like a sob and Stephen's face when he hears it - you’d think he's been punched.

“Come here, come here right now,” Stephen says in a rush but he doesn't let Peter take a step before he's snatched him off his feet and sat back down with the boy sitting sideways on his lap. 

Tony takes a hold of Peter's feet and sets the boy's legs on his own, massaging the soles of his feet, his eyes fixed on his face, waiting.

It doesn't last long. Stephen rubs his cheek in their son's curls, kisses the top of his head, his alpha still audibly growling in his chest at the obvious hurt his pup is going through but it’s a reassuring sound, for all of them.

“Bullies,” Peter whispers in his Dad's neck, meeting Tony's eyes and not letting go. It's Tony's turn to hold onto both his flinch and howl, his fingers tightening around the lithe circles of Peter's ankles. 

No one says anything for a long while, they just cuddle, Stephen draping his whole self around Peter, Tony coming increasingly closer until he can put his head on his baby's lap. 

“I'm a nerd, they don't like nerds,” Peter says after a while and Tony almost smiles again - there is a pride in the teen's voice even when he sounds so miserable. 

“They're brutes, we don't like brutes,” Stephen answers, his tone final and dangerous and it will take some extensive stress-relief to prevent him from cracking his fragile knuckles onto some jerk jock's jaw. 

They'll get the details of what exactly happened to their son some other time, soon, and figure out a way to make it stop. For now, Peter's rubbing his cheek on his Dad's collarbone and keeping a steady grip on Tony's shoulder, his omega scent mellowing out once again.

“You smell like Mom,” Peter eventually giggles, his nose tucked in the collar of Stephen's shirt and the sound of his soft laugh warms Tony up from head to toe, Stephen too, for sure. 

The pile of them is warm and no doubt what Peter's been needing all day long and if they didn't know him so well, if they weren't such a close-knit of a family, Tony thinks they might have missed the boy's problems altogether. It certainly wouldn't have occurred to his own father to wonder why Tony didn't stop to say hi when he came back from school, himself not bothering with it most days. But they were that kind of family and being together right now, being together always, is what they've achieved through the years and Tony hopes Peter feels it just as much as he does in this moment, just as much as he knows Stephen does, too. 

The supreme contentment and fulfillment of having a dotting, sometimes clingy, always loving family at the ready, no matter what. 

**Author's Note:**

> More to come really really soon ;)
> 
> Also find me on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/hogwartstoalexandria)


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